HoG - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Last of the Lancasters

With a resounding plop, Byron joined the crimson-stained waves, the last of the Lancasters to be cast into the unforgiving sea by the pirates' bloodied cutlasses. The burly first mate, his presence thick with the scent of spilled blood, erupted into a maniacal laugh that chilled the air.

"Be grateful for my mercy, 'Bones' Myers," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "There's no need to summon the maneaters with more blood and the fear of dying sailors. Walking the plank is much more comfortable than keelhauling, hahaha..."

The sharks, their eyes alight with bloodlust, had grown satiated. Yet, they were compelled by some unseen force to encircle the pirate ship, their movements forming a perfect, ominous ring. Myers watched them, his eyes gleaming with fervor.

"Though it requires a live human sacrifice every three days to command them as the armed guards of a pirate ship for reconnaissance and combat, the cost is worth it," he mused aloud. "It won't be long now. A few more jobs under the captain, and I too shall be granted this miraculous power by Lord 'Blood Eye'!"

With a dismissive turn, Myers strode away, confident that none of the sacrifices would survive the plank. The pirates' arrogance and the fearsome reputation of the "Maneater" had been forged by the blood and tears of countless souls in these waters.

As expected, the sharks, their hunger not yet fully sated, tore through the old sailor who had preceded Byron into the depths with terrifying ease. They then set their sights on Byron, who was tightly bound, utterly defenseless.

Byron understood the gravity of his situation. Even a fully armed knight would meet the same fate in such dire straits. As he gazed into the sharks' red-tinged eyes, his heart turned to ice.

"Not ordinary beasts, but supernatural," he whispered to himself, drawing on the knowledge that had accumulated in his mind. The scene before him was not surprising, for he had witnessed such powers many times before.

Yet, knowledge alone could not save him. He could only watch in despair as the sharks, their mouths agape, churned the sea into a maelstrom of death, their dagger-like teeth glinting coldly in the light.

In that moment, Byron's sea-blue eyes narrowed, and his thoughts raced. It was as if he were reliving the moments before death, a story he had heard many times. The memories of the sailors' tales and the visions from his earlier dreams resurfaced, merging into a singular resolve.

A young man, wasted by ALS, lay on a sickbed, his eyes shining with an unwavering light. "I never want to experience the desolation of helplessly waiting to die alone on a sickbed again!" he declared. "I want to run, jump, swim, and adventure freely. To see the glaciers, deserts, auroras, vast forests, and boundless seas of this world... If one day I could die in the raging waves, it would be my perfect redemption!"

Beside him, a sweaty teenager, clad in armor, swung a heavy sword with relentless determination. "A knight charges forward, taking a blow to the back as a disgrace!" he shouted, his voice echoing with the strength of his conviction.

These two figures merged in Byron's mind, shielding him from the despair that threatened to consume him. And then, something extraordinary happened.

Since his plunge into the sea, the blue light that had rekindled in his right eye seemed to have met some unknown condition, erupting from his pupil in a brilliant flash. Church bells pealed within his skull, and a tapestry of wonders unfurled before his eyes—the sun rising and setting, clouds gathering and dispersing, tides ebbing and flowing, and all life thriving on the earth.

Ancient tribes tilled the land with fire and stone tools, two-legged dragons hunted with abandon, and knights formed a steel torrent that surged across battlefields. Images from the dawn of humanity to the present cascaded through Byron's consciousness.

"What is this?" he wondered, as the river of light coursed through every vessel and nerve in his body. Before him, it coalesced into a journal, its pages yellowed and stained with the passage of time—an ancient "Navigation Log."

The cover bore no words, only the image of an eye as blue as the sea. As Byron's gaze fell upon it, the log opened, and deep blue ink began to inscribe its pages.

"A passion for life, a desire for freedom, courage that never retreats in the face of a strong enemy, and an 'anchor' from the 'correct history'! Conditions met! The log restarts, ready to record new history!"

Turning the title page, it began to write the main text:

"Some say we live on a small island of ignorance, surrounded by an endless black ocean. Perhaps we should never have set sail! But we had no choice. The log will record the captain's exploration of everything unknown and secret, and bestow the gifts of 'Spirituality' and 'Entries'!

Starting point: The year 1471 AD, October 12th, the Red and White Rose War of England ends, the throne belongs to the White Rose York family!

Captain Byron Lancaster, perhaps you only need a little help to write your own legend in this era!"

Byron's mind was a tempest, his eyes ablaze with a newfound purpose. "I am the transmigrator, and also Byron Lancaster of the England! The Red Rose Lancasters! The Lancasters who had their country usurped!!!"

The urgent wind howled in his ears, carrying the scent of fish and blood, sweeping his consciousness away into the depths of destiny.

Boom—!

A bolt of lightning ripped through the night sky, illuminating Byron in his cadet officer's uniform, standing aboard a sail warship as massive as a small mountain. The flags atop the topmast snapped in the gale—the black flag with a blood cross of the England, the red rose noble flag of the Lancaster family, the sword of sovereignty signifying the king's flagship, the storm flag of the commander of the Storm Knight Order, the fleet commander's flag, the captain's long pennant, and a figurehead shaped like a blue dragon.

"This is the first-rate battleship 'Blue Dragon King' of the Lancaster family!"

Empowered by the "Navigation Log," Byron's consciousness had rewound to five days earlier, to the night when the Yorks and Lancasters contested the throne. It was also the night of memories inexplicably lost to him.

According to the sailors, a sudden storm would that night seal the Lancasters' fate. Yet, as his lost memories resurfaced, Byron, an eyewitness, knew the truth. The Lancasters' downfall was not a storm, but something far more sinister.

"No!"

His expression twisted in horror as he dashed into the cabin, futilely hoping to alter the past. But the disaster struck as expected.

A discordant flute melody, emanating from the heart of the storm, pierced the rain and invaded Byron's ears. The sea around the "Blue Dragon King" and the Red Rose fleet darkened, tainted by an unknown substance. A colossal entity seemed to crawl in the shadows, emitting a viscous growl and a stench that penetrated the bone marrow.

All the Lancasters aboard, including Byron's father, Prince Edmund Lancaster of Sorenburg, and his uncle, King Henry VI, the "Mad King" of England, awoke with vacant expressions and marched to their doom. One by one, they leaped into the black sea, vanishing without a trace, without even a ripple.

Even those with medium to high-sequence supernatural abilities, momentarily roused by the sea's peril, were dragged into the abyss as if by deep-sea phantoms. An insurmountable fear lurked in the ocean's depths, unbeatable, unavoidable, inescapable.

Byron, overwhelmed by despair, heard his father's final words. Before being submerged, Prince Edmund summoned a gust of wind with his "Storm Knight" ability, hurling a golden signet ring, the family's legacy, towards Byron.

"The danger comes from the dream, Byron, run!!!"

But staying awake offered no escape. Within moments, Byron's family and the "Blue Dragon King" were swallowed by the shadows, leaving Byron as the sole survivor, a transmigrator from another world. His previous life, dormant until now, awakened to fill the void in his consciousness, granting him a second chance at life.

Carried by the tumultuous currents of the stormy night to the Strait of Dover, he was caught in the "Pelican's" plunder by the "Maneater." Until the "Navigation Log" activated, he regained the memories consumed by the unknown, or rather, the "secret" that no one was allowed to record.

His two lives merged into one, and the "Navigation Log," revealed itself. But there was no time for contemplation. Byron's eyes blazed with a fierce light.

"Revenge—!!!"

The "Navigation Log" continued its rapid, automatic inscription:

"Captain, you have uncovered a secret of a great historical turning point: the shadow of the Red and White Rose War, with a historical influence of 31%. The Yorks' power to annihilate the Lancasters was not used in the past thirty years. The blood feud of usurpation and genocide is more than a mere succession war."

For uncovering this secret, Byron received his first entry—"Historical Revisionist" (activatable after taking up any supernatural profession)—and a significant boost to his spirituality.

The motto of the pirates of the Northern Bay, who once terrorized the world, echoed in his mind: "Revenge is a must!!" The ancient blood of the Bay people within him began to boil, initiating a spiritual sublimation.